


Tricksters and the Mother

by LawrenceKinden



Series: Stories of the Conch Republic [2]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Native American/First Nations Mythology, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Mythology - Freeform, Sex, Spanking, Trickster - Freeform, conch republic, mother - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coyote and his trickster cousins probably should have chosen a different target for their snooping. [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricksters and the Mother

Hera, great Mother Goddess of the Olympians, lounged in a deck chair on the back patio of her beach-side condo. In her hand was an extra minty mohito, her third of the afternoon. The sun shone brilliantly from a cloudless sky so that it glittered off sand and sea below.

"Another drink, ma'am?"

Hera looked up at the bronzed young man in his khaki shorts and sun bleached t-shirt. From behind her sunglasses, she let her eyes roam his well-muscled body.

"No, Antonio, not just yet."

Antonio smiled and nodded, letting his own gaze linger on her bikini clad body.

Hera smiled. It pleased her that, though she wasn't as slim as goddess like Venus and Aphrodite, Artemis and Diana, that her well rounded hips and ample breasts caused young men to stare with a degree of lust.

Though she was also the Goddess of Marriage, as far as she was concerned, that included infidelity, divorce, and eventual remarriage. For centuries, Hera had stayed faithful to her husband Zeus while he'd played fast and loose with the concept of matrimony. Eventually, after a long talk with her cousin Juno, she'd come to the conclusion that she could be married to Zeus, even love him, and enjoy the affections of other men. After all, such goings on were the norm of mortals of modern society and the deities often shifted with the attitudes of mortals. And damn the consequences if Zeus didn't like it.

So to speak.

The serving boy left, and Hera settled in to attend some serious sunbathing, when a sound caught her attention. Interest piqued, she stood and went to the rail of the porch. On the beach, scores of tourists, some of them immortals like her, enjoyed themselves. There were sunbathers and barbequers, volleyball players and frisbee throwers, swimmers and sand castle builders. The babble of voices was a happy cacophony that made her smile in a motherly way. But it wasn't something out there that had caught her attention.

The sound came again, a surssur of mischievous snickering, and it came from within her condo. The realization set her expression into firm, strict lines that mothers across the world used when irritated with their progeny. Leaving her mohito on the small glass table by the deck chair, she went inside.

The living room was cool, regulated by state of the art air conditioning. She had decorated it in blues and greens and purples, pattered after the plumage of the peacock the animal symbol of her power. She had always admired the bird's impressive tail.

At the threshold of her bedroom, she saw three young men at her bureau. They were clad in the clothes of the beachbum, bare-chested, loose shorts, and flip flops. She recognized two of them, Hermes, her step-son, and his close cousin Mercury. The other was not as familiar to her, though from his pointed, furry ears and canine tail, she was pretty sure he was Coyote.

They were going though the contents of the topmost drawer. Hera pursed her lips angrily. She planted her fists on her hips and cleared her throat loudly. The boys turned, their eyes wide in surprise. Hermes was holding one of her favorite thongs, a blue, purple, and green affair patterned in a peacock feather motif. Mercury was holding an elaborately carved phallus. Coyote, his yellow eyes bright with panic, was sniffing an expensive pot of perfume.

Though they had snuck into her home as young men, under her angry glare each seemed to shrink in on himself until he was a boy of no more than ten.

Olympus' trickster, Hermes, and his close cousin Mercury, knew better than to try her patience, and it had been centuries since she had seen tricksters from other pantheons as her reputation as a strict mother figure was renown. But Coyote, though he new her reputation, did not know her as well. He made a break for it.

Hera had him by his pointed, canine like ear before he knew what had happened.

"None of that, young man. I'll have to use my hairbrush on you for that." She looked at Hermes who immediately went to her vanity to fetch the heavy-backed ivory hairbrush inlaid with silver. He presented it to her as a supplicant and she took it with all the grace of her station. Coyote whimpered. 

"You've all been very bad boys," Hera lectured as she sat on her bed and dragged Coyote over her bare thighs. "And you know what happens to bad boys, don't you?"

Hermes and Mercury both nodded hurriedly, but Coyote only whimpered again. She slapped his bare thigh sharply and he yelped.

"Tell me, Coyote."

Coyote had to swallow hard before he could answer. "They get spanked, ma'am."

"That's right." Hera laid her hairbrush on the bed beside her, then inserted her fingers into the waist of Coyote's shorts. He shivered, a high-pitched whine escaping his throat. A firm tug later and she was looking at his bare behind, covered only by the canine tail tucked firmly between his legs. Hera took hold of the base of Coyote's tail in one hand (pulling it out of harm's way), picked up her hairbrush with the other, and raised it high.

"You've only yourself to blame, young man." And with a mighty crack, the spanking began.

Coyote howled in pain. Hermes and Mercury winced in sympathy. Hera smiled in satisfaction. She spared no mercy for the trickster as she reddened his bottom quickly and efficiently, bright red ovals raising on his skin. When his bottom and upper thighs were a uniform red, she released him so that he could dance about her bedroom, rubbing his beaten nates. She gave him only a moment or two to act in this capacity before she steered him to the corner.

"Now, keep your nose here, young man. Put your hands on your head, and no rubbing your bottom, or we shall have to do this again. Understood?"

Coyote nodded tearfully and did as he was told.

The cousins were looking at her with wide eyes and open mouths and when she fixed them with a glare, she was sure she could see the blood draining from their faces. She pointed at them with the hairbrush and saw them flinch.

"Bottoms bare, hands on the bed, now!"

The boys hurried to obey, and Hera moved into position, ready to wreak hefty wrath upon the naked cheeks of the boys. But she found herself distracted. Coyote, now standing naked in the corner, had not followed the instructions to keep his nose firmly pressed. Instead he was sneaking a look at the proceedings and if the slow swelling of his loins was any indication, he found them exciting.

Hera smiled and pretended not to notice.

She started with Mercury, slapping each cheek firmly with her hairbrush. Mercury cried out and protested.

"But Aunty Hera, we didn't try to run. Please not the brush, please?"

"Quiet, child. I'll decide the severity of your spanking, not you." And she smacked her hairbrush across his thighs in quick succession. Mercury howled with remorse.

She moved then to Hermes, but not without first sneaking a look at Coyote, who had shifted just a little older, old enough to know what to do with a swelling boyhood. He took hold of himself subtly.

Hera allowed herself to smile just a little more.

"Mommy, I'm sorry, honest I am," cried Hermes as Hera placed her hairbrush on his bottom.

"You most certainly will be," Hera said sternly. In short order, several crimson ovals were decorating Hermes' bare bottom while he danced the ancient spanking dance.

In that manner, switching between the two, Hera spanked the boys thoroughly, reducing them to sobbing, repentant children whom she chased from her house with promises of more should they ever dare to steal onto her property again.

But when she returned to her room, she realized she'd forgotten to release Coyote as well. She noticed also that his boyhood had become a manhood, though still he stood in the corner, his bottom a bright red.

With a smile, she approached. "Just how long has it been since you were spanked, young man?"

Coyote shrugged. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky. "What is time to the gods?" And he smiled showing carnivorous teeth.

Hera ran a finger along his pointed ear and he shuddered. "You have never served me, Coyote, but I think it's time we rectified that. Don't you?"

Coyote nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma'am." He turned and put his eager hands on her hips, his lips going to hers, but she stopped him with a finger on his chest.

"Don't forget to thank me, young man."

Coyote's smile widened. "Thank you for spanking me, ma'ma. May I kiss you now?"

Hera smiled. "You may."

Juno had been right. Being a Goddess of Marriage, by today's standards, was far more fun.

~*~

Two pairs of mischievous eyes spied from the lower corner of the bedroom window, snickering at the cross-pantheonic affair and the howls of joy it elicited.


End file.
